


Momentary Bliss

by subsonicspeeds



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Exhaustion, F/F, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mindless Fluff, Undercover, gunfights, injuries, more to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsonicspeeds/pseuds/subsonicspeeds
Summary: A collection of requests and drabbles from my tumblr! All siege related, and they can and will vary drastically.
Relationships: Mark "Mute" Chandar/James "Smoke" Porter, Max "Mozzie" Goose/Ryad "Jackal" Ramírez Al-Hassar, Olivier "Lion" Flament/Gustave "Doc" Kateb
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	1. Spooks (Smoke/Mute)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you can find me on tumblr [here!](https://subsonicspeeds.tumblr.com)

A bullet wound. It'd be something that shouldn't be ignored, but Mute? He chose to. It wasn't important now. The mission was what needed to be completed, and by God they were almost there. He remained on one knee, focusing on keeping himself steady while Smoke was up ahead, holding the room until their extraction could arrive.

He kept one hand pressed on his stomach where the bullet now rested, trying to keep pressure on it. Smoke was yelling obscenities up ahead at the Masks, causing a small, pained chuckle to erupt from him.

“Don't worry, babe. My _other_ babes have got this place locked down.” Smoke whipped his head around, probably flashing a smile from underneath his mask. Even in dire situations, he always found something to crack a joke at. Maybe that was what had garnered Mute’s attention, be it from sheer annoyance or genuinely enjoying his light hearted company. It was a change from most SAS operators.

Those were oddly pleasant thoughts to have as he was bleeding out into his hand, but that's just what Smoke managed to do to his mind. The familiar sound of metal clanging from the wall to the floor broke him out of his trance, ripping him back into the familiar reality.

 _“Flash!”_ Smoke yelled and shielded the eyes of his mask with his entire arm, while Mute turned his entire head and squeezed his eyes shut. Even turning that much made him whimper in pain, and he felt like a fool for doing so. At least his partner was oblivious half the time, because he didn't notice one bit. He was too busy mowing down any threat that came their way. Meanwhile Mute hadn't shot a single bullet in the past few minutes.

His breathing was getting ragged, and honestly his own mask was making it difficult. But he couldn't take it off thanks to Smoke’s grenades, so he was forced to sit there and wheeze out each breath. Mute heard footsteps coming from his left, and while his spot from under the desk was covered, he knew he needed to make a move. “...piss off…” Muttering to himself, he grabbed his pistol from his hip and aimed shakily at the source of the noise, firing a few bullets into the shape before slouching back down. His head was starting to feel like absolute shite.

“Got me covered back there, babe?” Smoke’s urge to call everyone “babe” never stopped, even in these situations. It was nice, honestly. Mute felt his mind drifting everywhere, as he lost more and more blood. It had to have been around ten, twenty minutes now? He honestly didn't know. Everything felt so slow. The most he had was his hand against his stomach, failing to catch the blood. His glove and armor were covered in a nice shade of crimson. At the lack of a response, Smoke turned his head to look at Mute. “Mute? Babe?” _Shit. His attention is going to focus on me instead of the threat now._

“‘M good… doing good.” Trying to save it, he looked up and gave a grimace that would never see the light of day. “...ETA?” He needed to deflect with a question, but he could tell by the way Smoke was approaching him that it was unsuccessful. “Go back to watching your angle… I'm fine.” But the man was as stubborn as a bull.

“How long have you been sitting like this for you fucking git?” Smoke pressed his hand against Mute’s own that was trying to soak up the crimson liquid. “Bloody hell… you're a mess.” Clearly Smoke was fine without an answer to the previous question for now, and focused on trying to find something better to patch him up with. But he knew the other man was smart enough to realize that Mute had been bleeding well before his gunshots.

“Focus on the task. I'll be fine.” Mute tried to shoo Smoke away with small hand movements, but ultimately they did nothing as the other hunched over him with some duct tape. He must have been putting some of the remotes on the grenades as he went, or just had spare on him in case something fell off. They weren't the most elegant of creations.

“ _Mark,_ I'm going to beat your ass when we get out of here.” The use of his real name made Mute uncomfortable, but he was sure that was the point. “I'm getting you patched up, no matter how dodgy it's gonna look for now. I'll let them know that we'll need medical attention ASAP, eh?” Smoke was overbearing with Mute once he would notice something was off. It worried him and all he could do was hope that he wouldn't lose his focus. “Just… lay down under here. Promise me you won't conk out on me?” His raspy voice normally would cause annoyance or just unsettle everyone within earshot. The man really had a way of changing his voice on the fly.

“If it gets you to focus, fine.”


	2. Running (Lion/Doc)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heavily inspired by this line in Lion's bio:  
>  _He bears the weight of responsibility for what he has done and pushes himself to the limits as a form of corporal punishment._

Olivier had a very set and rigid schedule each and every morning. It was something he forced himself to do, and tended to keep it pretty lowkey. The beginning started pretty normal: get up at five in the morning, take a shower, brush his teeth, hair, etc. At around six, he'd head outside and begin exercising. Not quite out of the ordinary, until he continued until the point of collapse. It was a regular that he'd almost pass out before he considered his workout “complete.” If he didn't push himself this far, what was the point?

After all, it was what he deserved. It kept himself reminded of his sins, of the wrong doings he had done in his past. And that he wasn't going to let them weigh him down.

Olivier had trudged into base, completely drenched in sweat and out of breath. His body burned, and there was a stinging in his sinuses every time he breathed. It was the norm. The world was spinning, but he was used to navigating back to his room at this point. Just using his hand to brush against the brick wall as support, he walked back to his room. At least that was the plan, until he bumped into a smaller figure in his mindless trek.

They both grunted, and he leaned against the wall entirely. Looking down, he had realized who it was: his stubborn lover, Gustave. As tired as he was, Olivier still flashed a cocky smile at him. “Oh, hey babe. Didn't notice you down there.” Running his hand through his blonde hair, he tried to act suave, which always seemed to frustrate Gustave for whatever reason.

The one in mention glared up at him, before sighing and loosening up. “You smell and look terrible. Did you just run a couple miles?” Of course he mentioned his current state, the other was too observant… and cared more than he'd ever admit.

“Eh, a lot more than that. Nothing my body can't handle.” Olivier’s head was really spinning by now, given that he'd normally be in bed and recuperating before taking his second shower of the day. He knew what he could handle, he pushed that to its very limits, and this was starting to get outside of them. “Anyways I need to get going, the shower is calling my n-” He was cut off by Gustave taking his wrist and yanking him in the opposite direction.

“Nonsense. You look awful for something that ‘your body can handle.’” Groaning, Olivier stumbled and followed him into his office. This wasn't part of his routine, and it was really throwing him off. But he _was_ used to Gustave’s surprise checkups. It was just his way of guaranteeing the two were alone, and to make sure nothing was ailing Olivier.

“You know I'm fine.” He grumbled and protested as he made his way to the examination table, sitting on the side of it. “Just give me time to rest up.” But his cries fell upon deaf ears as Gustave put on a new set of gloves and walked over, tools in his metal cart next to him.

“Better safe than sorry now.” Putting his hand on Olivier’s chin, he forcibly turned his head to look at each side of his face. “What were you doing exactly? I don’t recall ever seeing you this tired.” Gustave didn’t really need the tools and such, it was more so just habit to have them by his side now. All Olivier could do was shrug. It was _normal._

“Nothing new. Pushing myself as I told myself I would.” The disappointment on Gustave’s face was painfully clear. They had this discussion once or twice before, but he always undermined the intensity of his exercises. It seemed his partner finally put the pieces together. Putting his hand on Olivier’s shoulder, Gustave looked right into his eyes, looking like he was about to scold him to Hell and back. But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled Olivier into a hug. He was silent for awhile, keeping his face buried into the other’s sweaty neck. “So much for hating how I smelled.” Murmuring in return, he rubbed Gustave’s back, but was greeted with a gentle shove in his side.

“Overexerting yourself is the same as not taking care of yourself.” It wasn’t professional for him to be giving him advice like this, but what was the point? It was hard to get Olivier to listen when he was being all stuck up and serious.

“You know how I am, Gustave.” He was speaking more softly compared to normal, and ended up pulling the smaller onto his lap. “I’ve got to keep myself disciplined.” Gustave looked annoyed with his new seat, but didn’t bother moving. And definitely more annoyed with the response.

“Not to the point of exhaustion.” Olivier was just kissing all over his neck and cheeks, and Gustave tried to get him to stop by pulling back to make him focus entirely for a few seconds. “I can help you work on your discipline in a better way. Just agree with me, and I promise you’ll feel more fulfilled.”

He stopped his affection for a moment, considering the offer Gustave had. It seemed to be stressing out his partner, the thought of him pushing himself this much. Olivier wasn’t fully convinced, not even close, but the thought of making the other worry more than he already did was enough to get him to at least comply for now. “We’ll see what method works better, how about that?”

Sighing, Gustave had to settle with that answer. “Alright. But if I catch you like this again there _will_ be hell to pay.” With that, Olivier chuckled.

“So be it. Now I need to shower, or did you fall in love with the smell of sweat again?”


	3. Bothersome (Mozzie/Jackal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a friend asked for Mozzie getting forehead kisses, so i of course had to go with my favorite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got a little carried away with this one, it was late at night and i was just kinda going for it

The night had been long, and Max was just absolutely ready to get his ass to sleep. Thatcher and Ash had really been up his ass for the past few days, making sure he pushed himself to his absolute limits. They weren't nice about it, either. Absolutely destroyed his mental state and he was starting to feel numb in the head. A weird feeling for the Australian nonetheless. He couldn't hold too harsh of feelings against them, since that's just how military life tends to be. And they amplified it by thousands. Alright. Maybe he was a little mad at them.

It was rare for Max to be this… gone? He wasn't sure how else to explain it. His nerves had been whittled down slowly but surely over time by the two. They probably wanted to make him into a “proper” soldier, despite him making it through everything and becoming part of Rainbow.

At some point, he had made his way into a bed. Not necessarily his own, and he was fine with that. It was his boyfriend, Ryad’s. The man was an insomniac, and rarely would he be found in his bed unless dragged into it by Max himself. So he decided that the best way to try and mend his beaten mind and body, would be to surround himself with his partner’s scent and other possessions. There was always something nice about how he smelled but… could never quite pinpoint what it was. Ryad made sure he was always clean and used the best products.  _ How else would he keep his hair so… perfect.  _ Max hummed to himself, moving his fingers slightly as he imagined him sitting here on the floor in front of him, not talking about a single thing. Just enjoying each other's company.

As soon as he began to close his eyes, he let his mind be clouded with thoughts of his boyfriend. It didn't take long for him to be disrupted. A shape opened the door with no restraint, hitting something that was in its path and creating a loud bang.  _ “Mierda.” _ The shape carried itself in a way that was painfully obvious that he was exhausted. And the fact that it had taken him that long, plus the time it took for him to rub his eyes to notice there was a foreign object on his bed proved just how fucked he was.

_ “Ryaaaad.”  _ Max whined, sitting up to get a better look at him. He knew he looked absolutely defeated, and Ryad could always tell if he was upset. No matter how tired he was. They were almost telepathic at this point, and Max loved it. 

“Max?” He mumbled, making his way over to his bed. Immediately he sat on the bed, and Max just pulled himself onto his lap. “ _ Mi amor _ … tell me, what's wrong?” Already Max could feel his worries lifting away with each word the Spaniard said. His accent and nicknames he used just made him feel so much more relaxed.

“I'm beyond fried. Fuckers tryna get me to think like ‘em and make me feel like dogshit.” Mumbling his complaints, Ryad started kissing up his jawline as he spoke. “Thatcher and Ash? Fuck ‘em. Whole lot of ‘em. Never had fun a single day in their lives. Everything has to be  _ sooo _ serious all the time. Startin’ to make me feel drained.” As he went on and on, complaining about this and that, Ryad just sat there with him in his lap, humming small approvals every so often. His lips traveled to other places as he complained, up his face normally. Max loved it when he would do this. Ryad was such a gentle lover, and according to him, wanted to make sure each part of Max was loved equally. So sometimes it'd be an awkward peck below his eye, and it'd make the two of them laugh a bit before they'd continue.

Max ranted for awhile, and Ryad just listened. There were points where Max  _ knew  _ his partner just wanted to make some sort of snide comment, he could tell when he felt the corner of his lips twitch a bit, but he had the decency not to speak about it. He knew now wasn't the time, and Max was more than grateful for that. “It sounds like they are working you to death. Mentally and physically.” After Ryad spoke, he pressed his lips to the other's forehead, slowly and firmly. “With me, you can relax,  _ mi cielo. _ For now, just breathe and focus on us.” And that caused Max to just absolutely  _ melt.  _ His boyfriend was too suave and smooth for his own fucking good. God, what would he do without him? All he could do was let out a pathetic little whine, a sound of approval. It wasn't what he meant to sound like, but Ryad got the hint. “Good… good.” Slowly he pulled his lips back and looked Max in the eye. “I love you.”

“Love ya, too.” And for a moment, they sat there, just gently staring at each other. Enjoying what the other had to offer. It was quickly shifted once Max decided he couldn't sit up any longer, and he needed to just get to bed. Sliding off his lap, he tried to pull Ryad into a lying position next to him. “Try not to wander away tonight, please?” The gooey pleas he put into his words visibly hit Ryad, causing him to sigh.

“I won't.” It was a simple promise, and Max knew it would be difficult for the insomniac to stay in bed with him all night without getting up. Especially if he couldn't find sleep on his own. But he appreciated him going through all of that for him.

“G’night then, Ryad.” With a mock kissing sound, he puckered his lips and expected a kiss. Once he turned the lamp off next to the bed, he sighed and gave him the kiss.

“Sleep well,  _ amor. _ ”


	4. Arsenic (Smoke/Mute)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark isn't sure where it came from, but he notices it every night.

It was just one of those nights where sleep wouldn't come, and all Mark had was his phone and James fast asleep next to him. He had exhausted everything he could think of to do on his phone. All of his social media was checked, no one was posting at this late. Games weren't really the best when you were trying to bore yourself to sleep… and all he had was word puzzle games. Those would wake him up, forcing his brain to think. And besides, James was pressed right up against him with his face shoved into his shoulder.

At least he could admire this, without the other teasing him relentlessly for it. James would never shut up if he complimented him or did something slightly affectionate. Some days he could handle it, but still never in public. It just wasn't something Mark was comfortable with, showing people anything but his intellect. So James could make all the moves he wanted while Mark scolded him, and while he enjoyed it, he still couldn't bring himself to drop his guard entirely.

Mark carefully reached around and put his hand on the back of James’ head, gently running his thumb down his hair. Inevitably, he ended up reaching his hairline and the old scar on his neck. Pausing for a second, his thoughts began to wander. “Why won't you tell me about this?” He mumbled and hoped he wasn't too loud. Asking himself out loud wasn't what he was trying to do, it just kind of happened sometimes.

James never talked about it, even when Mark would ask he would just say shit like: “I'm a chemist, accidents happen.” or “Nothing all that important.” It was beyond selfish for Mark to still want to know, even if it was insignificant. But he never pried for an answer as much as his mind was craving one.  _ What secrets do you hold? _

His hand had a mind of its own and just began running his fingers through his hair, front to back. Every time he'd reach the back he would hesitate as his fingers lightly danced over the slight raise that his scar left. The curiosity was killing him, pulling at his heart and brain. Mark ended up kissing the top of James’ head, whispering a soft  _ “I love you.” _ Maybe he could bring it up in the morning and try and clarify boundaries or-

“C’mon I'm barely awake… now you choose to be all lovey-dovey?” The voice made Mark jump out of his skin. In his panic he released him, much to James’ disappointment. “No, no. Come back here and kiss me.” Well, he was awake now. Leaning in for a quick kiss, James chuckled under his breath before pulling himself on top of the other. Maybe he could ask now? Or would that be unfair? The man had just woken up, so who knows if it's a good idea. If it was nothing serious like he claimed, it would be fine. But if it was something more serious? He didn't want those thoughts to be the first he got when he woke up.

Mark kissed James again without any warning, letting it linger for much longer. “I love everything about you.” Their lips had barely separated when he whispered that, and he could feel the other’s breathing hitch for a split second as his hand traveled to the back of his neck. Though it seemed to be fine just a moment later as James just smirked at him.

“Really? Last I recall you were complaining about how much you hated me always wantin’ to snog ya.” Mark rolled his eyes, and he could feel the silent giggling from his boyfriend, with his chest going up and down. Yeah, he'd complain about it, but what else were you going to do when a bunch of your coworkers were standing around when it was happening? There was no explaining that to James, because as much as it embarrassed him, he did enjoy the teasing and everything that came along with it.

“You know what I mean.” Putting his hands on James’ back, he traveled back up to his neck. Mark couldn't bring himself to ask directly, and he just hoped he was obvious enough. His boyfriend wasn't stupid.

“Curiosity finally killin’ ya?” He just nodded in response. “I've got some pictures I can show you. In the morning. I'm too comfortable now.” James grinned against his chest, all sprawled out and on top of him. “Try n’ sleep, babe.”

Mark found it surprisingly easy to fall asleep after that.


	5. Frostbitten (Kapkan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Arctic is no place for any man.

Maxim let the shovel hit the ground, arms aching from the heavy blankets of snow that just never seemed to end. He felt like he had been at it for hours, but in this hellish arctic landscape,  _ nothing _ ever ended. Nothing good ever happened. That was Naryan-Mar for you. The Arctic offered no solace, no comfort. Winter days were brief, and the nights stretched on and on. But it was what he had to do for the greater good.

His life was at constant risk, keeping himself undercover to whittle away at this damned organization, one day at a time. It was going to take possibly years, but it was time he was willing to dedicate. But god… If it wasn’t draining. Being here for so long… Pretending to be someone you weren’t. Maxim felt like he lost part of himself. Everything became so stiff, so serious, and he couldn’t risk letting himself drop his guard for even a moment. It could end just like  _ that. _

And he would be lying if he wasn’t afraid. But this was his job, and if no one else was going to do it, then god damnit, he was going to. Reaching down, Maxim wrapped his gloved hand around the handle of the shovel. If he did this, he would be remembered. His life wouldn’t be meaningless, and he would have an impact. Not like his parents, and not like his brothers.  _ Him,  _ Maxim Basuda, would have altered history itself, if he proved successful. All he wanted to do was change this shitty world, make it less disgusting. Perhaps that thought was too promising, but it was what kept him through each day in this climate.

Maxim wiped his brow, sighing and staring at the heavy pile of snow. Something good would come of all this. It just had to.


	6. Undone (Smoke/Mute)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chills, is it something real?

_Mine, immaculate dream made breath and skin._

_I’ve been waiting for you._

There was something ethereal about this man. He was right there in front of him, real and absolute. It was something out of his muddled fantasies over the years. Perhaps it wasn’t imagined in this exact form, but even in his mind there was no consistent _person._ Especially over the past few years, the shape had changed every night. There was no “type” he had, he learned.

But somehow, the one in front of him was absolutely perfect for him. Every single aspect of him fit some sort of checklist that he didn’t know he had. That he _knew_ he didn’t have. Completely inconceivable. Reaching forward, he had to wrap his arms around him to make sure he was genuinely _there,_ genuinely _his._

He could disappear at any moment, and he didn’t want that. Too long had he been waiting for him to appear in his life.

_Hey child, stay wilder than the wind._

_And blow into me._

With a name like Mark, he really never really thought it’d be anything serious. Now that sounded shallow and frankly absolutely childish. But it was genuinely how his thought process went. With each hookup he’d have, the name was how he’d rate them in advance. Of course, he’d quickly try to purge the name out of his head immediately to prevent any sort of future longing.

Perhaps their past, having known each other for years and just overall getting along decently played a part in all of this. He wanted something more with _only_ him. Something that could last, something that would maybe change him. Never would he admit that, but the feeling had been there ever since his interest was piqued. Mark had substance to him, and wasn’t just a sack of meat. And in his eyes, neither was James.

And the importance of that would never be understood by him.

_Who do you need? Who do you love?_

_When you come undone?_


End file.
